Scratch
by PrintDust
Summary: As the group settles into their lives after the the fall of the farm, Lori and Rick begin their journey back to each other. Neither of them are prepared for when things take a turn for the worse. LoRick
1. Chapter 1

**This story is co-authored with Di311. Please check out the link to her page on my profile.  
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It had been two weeks since they had lost the farm; everyone was hungry, dirty, cold and grumpy. It was obvious in their short interactions with each other that things were looking bleaker, and it was simply getting more difficult to be optimistic about anything at all any more. All of this was bad, but nothing was worse for Lori than the fact that her husband had not spoken more than a few sentences to her since the day he'd told her about killing Shane and she'd walked away from him without a word. He'd barely even looked at her. She supposed the _punishment _was rather fitting. But it still hurt.

On the one hand, she couldn't blame him; she'd made a mistake by not giving him some indication of what had been going through her mind. In the moment, she'd been too shocked and unsure to even process all the information he'd told her. She'd realized after the fact - after the damage had already been done - how that reaction must have appeared to him. Shane was, after all, the man with whom she had been involved briefly when she'd thought Rick was dead. In her mind it was a non-issue. But it was entirely possible that he'd misunderstood her reaction. It was even more likely that he'd felt she thought of him differently: like a monster - a killer. The irony was that, in truth, Lori felt like the monster. She felt entirely responsible for Rick and Shane's deteriorated friendship.

Yet on the other hand, she'd reached the breaking point on her ability to deal with Rick's tendency to close off emotionally when things got difficult between the two of them. The passive aggressiveness was getting past the point of hurtful and becoming aggravating. She'd decided she needed to confront him and deal with the consequences. At best, he'd finally give her some decent acknowledgement,even if only to yell at her. At worst, she'd finally push him past _his _breaking point and she feared what the consequences of that might be. He was still wearing his wedding ring, which she interpreted as a good sign, but would she push him far enough that he'd give up altogether?

One foggy morning she made up her mind to take her opportunity. Everyone had discussed their plans for the day during dinner the night before: Daryl would be hunting; Glenn and T-Dog would go on a run for supplies; Carol, Beth, and Maggie planned to cook breakfast as Hershel collected water. As long as Carl continued to sleep just a little bit longer she'd have the time she needed to confront his father.

As was his usual routine for the last two weeks, Rick got up before her…or, he thought he did since Lori was often already awake and simply feigning sleep as he climbed out of the car they had been using for shelter. She couldn't bear to acknowledge the silence that permeated their mornings. It was easier and less humiliating to just pretend that she was still asleep. She checked the back of the station wagon to make sure Carl was still asleep before she followed her husband out of the car.

Noticing Hershel still sitting nearby, Lori asked if he could keep an eye on Carl for a bit as she worked up the courage to approach Rick, who naturally had his back to them. He was scanning the distance, she assumed for stray Walkers. She watched his back for a moment before she forced her legs to move forward quickly so she wouldn't back out. Placing herself next to him, Lori watched as his eyes moved ever so slightly to glance at her. She assumed if she didn't say anything he wouldn't bother and would eventually just walk away. _Not this time_, she thought determinedly_._

"Take a walk with me?" Rick barely turned his head a fraction so she could see that he did indeed hear her. She continued before he could reject her outright. "Don't you think we need to talk about…"

"About what, Lori?" He turned abruptly and looked at her with such malice that she almost gasped.

"Things…" she faltered and drifted off. She couldn't recall a time he'd ever looked at her that way. Mustering her courage, she still pushed forward. "We've been avoiding the most…"

"I'm doing stuff, Lori, _things_." He cut in, echoing her own word choice. "Isn't that enough?" He paused momentarily to scan her face before finishing. "I'm still here."

Lori almost relented; she almost apologized and told him he was right. But then she remembered all that she had been thinking about while working up the courage to confront him. She couldn't lose the opportunity before her. He started to turn away, assuming she had nothing more to say.

"No."

She watched as Rick's back tensed and he stopped short, turning his head slightly back towards her.

"No…it's not enough," she stood up straighter and forced her voice to be steady. "You're still here, _barely_. If this marriage is going to survive we need to talk things out. I'm prepared to acknowledge my mistakes and apologize for them. I know a lot of this was my fault, but I won't let you put up walls anymore. Either we talk about it and work through it together or we take these rings off."

She hadn't meant to blurt the ultimatum, fearing she'd put the idea into his head and he'd agree to it, but it had just spilled from her lips. Now, she watched his face waiting for a response.

Rick blinked a few times and appeared to be thinking over what she just said before his face hardened again and he turned back to face her.

"What did you expect, _Lori_?!" He practically spat out her name. She flinched slightly when he stepped closer to her.

"D'you remember when I said I couldn't handle it from you? That _look_ on your face? Scared, distrusting…"

"I'm sorry. I handled it badly…" Lori replied quickly; she did recall that conversation on Hershel's farm when she was worried about the older man wanting their group to move on.

"Badly?! You literally flinched away from me when I tried to touch you. You looked at me like I made you sick…"

"No! Not you! It's me..." Lori blinked furiously, feeling tears form behind her eyes. Even though she wanted Rick to show emotion - even anger - she wasn't quite prepared for hearing all of the things she'd feared confirmed.

"When you were telling me what happened with Shane all I could think about was how it was all my fault. _I'm_ the one who caused all of this. I put you both at odds; I put that knife in your hands! And Carl, bein' there – seein' that. Doing what he had to… In that moment I felt like I destroyed everything we tried to rebuild. That's why I didn't want you to touch me. I hate myself for that, and I deserve for you to hate me too but…I can't take it any more."

She paused to see if he had a response. He kept his eyes to the ground as she spoke so she couldn't see his reaction. She thought it was at least a good sign that he was listening.

So she continued. "Look, I know you're not a killer. And I don't believe there is any malice in your heart."

Rick nodded and huffed out a bitter laugh. "Alright."

Lori's brow pinched and her eyes glanced around their surroundings. She wasn't quite sure how to interpret or respond to his answer. She was about to risk pushing him a little bit more when he turned his back and slowly walked a few paces away from her, but he began to speak again.

"You know, when Shane was pointing his gun at me he was telling me how you and Carl would get over me. How you'd done it before. And I didn't let it get to me in that moment, I knew he was just tryin' to get a reaction out of me," he paused and she wished she could see his face but she didn't want to disturb him by moving in front of him. "But in that moment you pushed me away, I wondered. I wondered if he might have been right. Maybe what he said was true."

Her eyes widened in horror and she stepped forward to close the gap he created, reaching out to grasp his shoulder and coax him into turning back around. To her relief, he complied. She could finally see the hurt and pain in his face rather than just coldness and anger. It was worse than she'd thought.

"No, oh god no, Rick!" She wanted to reach out to him, touch his face or his hair, but she figured it might be too soon for that. She felt like she was dealing with a caged animal, she had to move slowly and carefully so as not to upset him. Her throat constricted and she swallowed before continuing.

"That never would have happened. I would have known what he did. I'd never have believed whatever story he meant to tell about it. You have to know that. If Shane was the one who'd come back from that I probably would have tried to kill him myself."

At her last words he looked up and into her eyes. Lori nodded slowly to show she meant what she had said. This time she did attempt to bring her hand up to his cheek but he took a step back, just out of her reach. She took note that he didn't move any further than that.

"I believe you," he held her eyes a moment before continuing. "But, I need some more time." Though she was disappointed in his conclusion, it could have been far worse.

"Okay…okay, I can accept that," she breathed.

Rick nodded once before heading back over to their makeshift camp-site where the other ladies in their group were beginning to serve breakfast—which was really just small portions of whatever canned food they'd managed to secure on the last run for supplies. She noticed Carl sitting next to Beth rubbing his eyes and glancing around, most likely looking for his parents.

Rick stopped about halfway there to look back and make sure Lori followed. She knew that despite his lingering hurt and anger, he still wanted to make sure she was safe. The small gesture made her crack a tiny, tight-lipped smile. There was still hope for them yet. She began the trek back feeling a little bit lighter.

_I'd like to know if you'd be open_  
_ To starting over from scratch_  
_ I'd like to know if you'd be open_  
_ To giving me a second chance_

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How do you feel? What do you think?


	2. Chapter 2

In the next days the group found themselves swept up in a marathon for survival, constantly on the move to avoid the groups of walkers that filtered through the trees and clawed at the sides of the buildings where they attempted to take refuge. They moved often, quickly, and always suddenly – barely having a moment to catch their breath and rest before they were forced to flee again.

Lori usually took the passenger seat in the station wagon next to Rick where she could stretch her legs out and sleep against the window. She tried her best to mask her exhaustion and discomfort, especially when the nausea got bad enough that she wanted to curl up around a toilet bowl and never leave its side. Sometimes her husband's hand would slide across the seat to collect hers from her side, knotting their fingers together in the wide empty space between them. His act of comfort did very little to ease the flipping of her stomach or the sleep that clawed at her, clouding her vision and thoughts - yet the silent confirmation that he was still there made her feel better.

They hadn't spoken since their conversation days before when he'd told her he needed more time. She'd done her best to respect his wishes and she kept their interactions to a minimum by going to Carol or Hershel if she needed anything. She hoped that he would come around soon and talk to her… if there was anything left to talk about. She'd tried to initiate a conversation the first time he'd taken her hand, but the end result had been him casting a glance into the rearview mirror at Beth and Carol before retreating away from her again.

Sometimes she wasn't able to fight off the sleep that demanded so fiercely that she close her eyes, _just for a minute_. She'd often open them to look around her as discretely as possible, confused about where she was and how much time had passed. The others never mentioned her naps, though sometimes Carol would lean over the seat to offer her some water and a gentle squeeze to her shoulder.

It had been two weeks since her conversation with Rick and a month since losing the farm when she'd started to feel like she was coming down with something. It started out as nausea and weariness that she dismissed as her advancing pregnancy, but when she'd developed a sore throat and the sniffles, Lori was forced to accept the truth: she was sick.

She knew that Carol had noticed her more obvious symptoms, but Lori had dismissed the other woman's attempts to mother her, insisting that she was fine – it was just a cold.

The group had found a tire yard a few miles off the main highway and they'd set up camp in the one-room office that had also acted as a staff lounge. Lori took the only piece of furniture in the room that was suitable for sleep: a loveseat that forced her to either position herself with her knees at her chest or her feet draped over the arm.

The back of her throat and tonsils had become an abstract painting of white splotches that she inspected apprehensively in the rounded glass of a carafe in the kitchen area. She'd taken to gargling salt-water to sterilize and treat the infection and she hoped that it would do the trick before she was caught out.

Her luck ran out one morning when she woke to cool fingers pressed to her fevered forehead and then her cheek. She opened her eyes slowly to find that it wasn't even dawn yet, the room barely lit by a bluish winter sun. Blinking rapidly, her eyes adjusted to the dim light and focused on her husband's concerned features.

"You were talking in your sleep," he explained, his hand moving from her cheek to the back of her neck. She cringed as his fingers twisted into the damp nest of her hair and she tried to sit up. His other hand landed on her shoulder, pressing her back into her pillow. "You're burning up, Lor," he frowned and withdrew his hand from beneath her.

She offered him the best smile she could muster, but she could feel how weak and unconvincing it was. "I think I have a cold," she muttered lamely, turning her face into the palm of his hand that had settled against her cheek again. "I'm alright." Her reassurance was punctuated by a yawn that stretched her raw throat, making her wince at the pain then cringe at the taste and smell of infection on her breath.

Rick frowned, his fingers moving to prod her throat for her swollen tonsils. Lori raked her fingers into his and turned over onto her side, snuggling into her sleeping bag. "I'm alright," she repeated, closing her eyes to go back to sleep. "Just need to sleep a bit longer."

Her husband allowed her to continue her grip on his fingers as he settled with his back against the couch, her arm draped over his shoulder and across his chest, pulling him into a hug. In spite of the pain in her throat and her exhaustion she smiled into his shoulder until she fell asleep.

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In the morning Rick insisted that Hershel examine her in spite of her protests. The undue attention embarrassed her and she settled against her pillow, avoiding the curious looks of the others as they shuffled like Walker's around the small space.

"Well," Hershel turned off the flashlight that he had been shining into her mouth and dropped his hands into his lap, his attention shifting from her to Rick. "She's got an infection. A bad one too."

Rick nodded from his spot on the arm of the couch where he'd been sitting with his arms crossed, silently observing the older man's work. "What do we do about it? Get her some antibiotics?"

Hershel nodded slowly, turning the flashlight over in his hands thoughtfully. "She'll need to keep warm: keep her-," he looked up when Lori placed her hand over his to still his movements.

Lori looked between the two of them, annoyed at being left out of a conversation of which she was the subject. "She is the cat's mother," she snipped, pushing her hair back off her burning forehead. "She can hear you just fine."

"Of course," Hershel offered her an apologetic smile. "You'll have to keep your chest warm to keep the infection from spreading. And we'll start you on antibiotics."

Lori nodded and leaned back into her pillow, caught off guard when Rick leaned in. She pulled her face back to avoid being hit when he grabbed her blanket and pulled it up to her chin. He didn't meet her eyes when she sent him a small smile that was laced with a hint of impatience. She wouldn't have the group fawning over her – she wouldn't be a burden to them.

"We'll do a run today," Rick got up from the couch and headed over to the side of the room where the others were crowded around a map on the desk. Carol had already lit the one-burner camping stove and was in the process of boiling quinoa in a small pot. Lori watched as the other women pierced a can of SPAM and tore the aluminum lid back. The smell of the canned meat filled the room and Lori quickly buried her face into her blanket and laid back down on her side, instantly nauseated.

"Sorry," Carol winced sympathetically, holding the can guiltily.

Lori rolled her eyes impatiently and turned her back to the room, pulling her hair across her nose. Unfortunately, she hadn't showered in a few weeks and her hair didn't smell much better. She settled for burying her head under her blanket until she could barely hear the meeting.

She was startled by something prodding her and she realized she must have fallen asleep.

"You gotta eat," the gruff voice came with a hard jab to her shoulder blade and she turned over to find that Daryl had poked her with the side of a metal plate. Lori looked past him to the others who were eating while still pouring over the map, debating amongst themselves in hushed tones.

Lori spotted her son glancing between her and the map and she narrowed her eyes at his semi-amused expression.

"None o' those pussies would come over," Daryl pulled her attention back to him and then extended food that he shoved in her direction, almost directly under her nose.

Holding her breath, Lori turned her face away and shook her head, feeling a sickly warmth begin to tingle along her hairline and up her spine. "Give it to Carl," she muttered into her hand, her voice like sandpaper on her sore throat. "I can't eat it."

Daryl scoffed and dropped the plate beside the couch, scattering quinoa and cubed SPAM over the edge and across the wooden grain of the end table. "Take it up with Rick," he muttered. "I ain't no dragon tamer."

Lori shot a wilted scathing look at his back and looked to her husband who was nodding approval at something Carl had said. Sighing, she looked to the food, her hand finding her abdomen where she had noticed a slight puffiness about a week before. It looked more like she was bloated than pregnant at the moment, but she knew that the baby was in there and that it needed her to take care of it. She decided she would try to tackle the food, but first she needed to go outside and pee, then vomit.

When she came back into the cabin she found the place in a state of commotion while everyone got dressed. Her food had been cleared away from the table and she sighed in what she knew should be disappointment and not the relief that was actually settling over her. Morning sickness was bad enough without eat processed lips and assholes from god knew what animal.

Across the room she spotted Carl pulling his coat on and she frowned at the thought that the group had decided to move on so soon. They'd barely seen a single Walker in the days since they'd found the yard. However, her disappointment quickly dissolved into confusion at the curious sight of Rick standing still barefoot by the map.

Weaving her way through the group she squeezed Carol's arm in apology for her former behaviour, and then Daryl's for the same reason. When she finally reached Rick's side she must have already been wearing her question on her face.

"They're all gonna head back to that housing development a couple miles back – hopefully there will be something left for us to pick through. Carl's going with them," he continued, picking up a cup of water. He raised his eyes, as though waiting for her to challenge him on the issue, his jaw tight as he worked it.

"If that's what you think is best," she agreed, trying to keep her expression neutral, tapping down the anxiety that instantly accelerated her heart rate. She mimicked his posture, crossing her own arms in front of her, her back finding the filing cabinet behind her.

Rick's jaw twitched and he nodded again. "We'll swing around to that village back south to check for a pharmacy or a clinic," he kept his eyes on the cork board ahead of him and it looked almost like he was actually reading the postings there. He ignored her surprised look and continued. "Hershel made us a list of what we need for you and some other stuff to keep an eye out for. They're gonna check further down the road past the development for another clinic or somethin' to get supplies."

"You're taking me?" Lori asked, tilting her head and shifting forward until she was in his line of vision.

Rick turned away, back to the table. "The village should be safer, and it'll be in and out with just the two of us," he uncrossed his arms as he spoke and reached up to touch her forehead again. "We'll talk."

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	3. Chapter 3

Lori sat in the front seat as the car idled, taking a moment to lean back against the headrest and close her eyes, waiting for the air coming out of the vents to turn warm. One of the advantages to being in a car often was heating since no place had working utilities anymore. Of course, she was already pretty warm considering that Rick and Hershel had insisted she wear a high-necked shirt underneath her standard button-up which she dutifully buttoned to the top. She didn't like being fussed over and she suspected that Carl felt the say way every time she insisted he stay close or be careful. She also knew that bundling up would help her body to fight the infection faster so she complied.

She opened her eyes to watch as Rick finished his chat with Daryl; the other team was also about ready to head out. She knew it was only going to be a few hours, yet it didn't stop her from hugging her son until he'd complained for her to let him go. She couldn't help it - the last time she was separated from him Walkers had overrun Hershel's farm and they had almost lost each other for good. _Just a couple of hours_, she reminded herself again. Both groups would make a quick sweep through their prospective locations and then return before sunset.

She was also feeling slightly nervous and at the same time cautiously hopeful about Rick's statement that they would talk. She tried not to get her hopes too far up, but it was hard since he had been more attentive and caring towards her lately. Perhaps that was only because she had been under the weather. She decided she would wait for him to bring it up again. She had said what she'd needed to and the ball remained in his court.

Lori had just finished that thought as her husband opened the driver's side door and climbed into the car. He turned his head in her direction to give her a once over, probably making sure she was still okay to go. She gave him a small smile and nod which he returned as he put the car into drive and pulled out of the tire yard behind the two other cars. They turned in opposite directions on the main road and she watched in the side mirror as the rest of their group got smaller and smaller before disappearing into the horizon.

XXXX

She must have dozed off because the next thing Lori knew she was being gently shaken awake by a hand on her shoulder. She opened her eyes to find that they were parked on a small street with several buildings lining it. She looked over to Rick who confirmed they had arrived at their destination. She mentally kicked herself for falling asleep since the drive would have been a good opportunity for their conversation. _Oh well, there's always the drive back_, she thought. The area was so small it couldn't possibly take them very long to scope out what they needed. In fact, looking out the window to her right, she realized that he had parked in front of a building that had a wooden sign above it that read _Dr. Holmes' Family Clinic and Pharmacy_. It seemed promising, until Lori noticed the boarded up windows and door.

"It looks abandoned," Lori mumbled. She couldn't help but feel disheartened and she hoped the rest of the group was having more luck. She knew that she needed to treat her infection or it would get worse.

"I'm going to go check it out," Rick said, his eyes sweeping up and down the street from his limited view in the car. "You should stay here, keep resting, but keep your weapons in your lap, just in case. I haven't seen any Walkers for the last couple of miles, but ya never know…"

Lori's brow pinched at his suggestion. "What if they're in the buildings, Rick? I'm not sure I like the idea of you going in there alone…"

"I'll be cautious. I'll whistle for you if I need back up. Keep the window cracked open so you can listen for me or anything else approaching."

Lori opened her mouth to protest again but Rick continued. "It was probably a bad idea for you to come. You look worn down, Lor, and the rumbling in your chest could compete with this engine," she could hear the sympathy and concern in his voice as he squeezed her shoulder.

Reluctantly, she nodded. Though she didn't want Rick going in by himself, she couldn't deny that she still felt incredibly weak and wasn't very confident in her ability to take down a Walker at the moment. Her throat was still dry and sore and he was right, she could feel the tightness in her chest and hear the crackling sound of phlegm build up as she breathed in and out. A cough was sure to be her next outward symptom. She would probably just be a liability to him at this point.

"Be careful," she said as he reached for his door handle. She grabbed his hand before he could exit and they locked eyes for a moment.

"I'll be quick, make sure you lock the door behind me," he instructed before stepping out of the vehicle and crossing in front of it toward the clinic entrance, his eyes still scanning the street for any movement.

Lori watched as he disappeared into the building. She couldn't see very far into it, but she could see that it was dark, the boarded up windows keeping natural light out of the space. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly; reminding herself that they hadn't seen any Walkers in the area the first time they'd passed through a few days before.

Minutes passed and she still hadn't heard anything, good or bad. She still hadn't seen anything either. She was about ready to assume that no news was good news when she heard one of the most terrifying sounds she could think of: her husband's voice screaming out in pain.

Lori lurched forward in her seat and immediately pulled on the door handle. It took her a few panicked tries until she realized the door was still locked. She quickly unlocked and pushed the door open. Jumping out of the car, her gun gripped tightly in her right hand, she took a second to lock and slam the door before taking off at a dead run for the clinic entrance.

She had no idea what to expect upon entering the building. Were there Walkers in there after all? If they had already gotten to her husband surely she was next, but she couldn't just leave him without knowing. She felt like she was going to be sick until she heard his voice again and she quickly shuffled her feet along the aisles toward the sound of it, using the shelving to make her way through the blackened room.

She could hear his rapid and ragged breathing, punctuated by groans which tore at her heart. If he was just bitten she was going to have to put him down. She couldn't think of a worse outcome.

"R-Rick?" she finally found her voice over her thumping heart and the bile rising in her throat.

"Here," he answered right away, but she could hear the struggle. But the one word was what she needed to close the final gap to his location.

"Careful," he managed to choke out. She found him sitting on the floor of an aisle with bottles of medication scattered all over. His back was to her and she could make out his form that appeared to be hunched over. As far as she could tell there were no Walkers and no bodies nearby. She felt relieved, though confused, as she jogged the rest of the way to the other side of him, careful to shuffle so that she didn't slip on any of the bottles.

"Oh my god," Lori's hand found it's way to her mouth as her eyes assessed the image in front of her. Rick's foot and calf were clamped by a very large, steel animal trap. She was torn between horrified at the turn of events and thankful that she didn't have to shoot her own husband.

She kneeled down to get a closer look, as much as she could in the dark. She could see that the trap had teeth lining the jaws, several of which were embedded into Rick's leg.

"Why is there an animal trap in a pharmacy?" she couldn't help but say the thought allowed.

"Stole the thoughts 'outta my head," her husband replied through gritted teeth. "Explains all the pill bottles on the floor though. Someone planted this here and hid it."

"Okay... I can open this," she determined. Her father had been an avid hunter and early in her life he'd showed her various traps: how they worked, and how to release an animal -or person - from one. She had never been very interested in those lessons, and actually found traps barbaric and cruel; but at the unthinkable moment that found her needing to free her husband from a trap, she thanked her lucky stars for father's stubborn insistence.

She could feel Rick's eyes on her and assumed he questioned how she could know what to do. "Daddy," she supplied in answer. She didn't wait for his response before locating the springs that she needed to push to release what looked like a bear trap. It was large, but thin and flat enough that she could see how it would have been well concealed by the pile of bottles. She imagined Rick must have just tried to kick them aside, not thinking to look for traps as most people wouldn't indoors.

As soon as she found the springs, Lori pressed down hard. She heard a loud, screeching metal sound and felt a surge of relief and pride as the jaws snapped open and released Rick's leg. The feeling was short-lived, however, when she noticed the blood rushing down to form a small pool between them. She quickly rolled up his pant leg to find that the teeth had left large gashes around his ankle and calf. She located one towards the back of his leg that was gushing more than the others.

"It might have gotten an artery or something," she observed, feeling dread fill her for what felt like the hundredth time that day. She started to unbutton her over-shirt that she'd put on that morning when Rick's hand stopped her midway.

"No, you need to keep your chest warm, use mine," he said while moving to unbutton his own over-shirt.

"You're bleeding," Lori scoffed and continued to make quick work of her shirt before he could get halfway through his. "Bleeding trumps an infection. I win this one."

Rick grunted and shook his head at her words; she could see he was in enough pain to prevent him from putting up much of a fight. She wrapped her discarded shirt around the source of the most bleeding and tied it twice, using her hand to apply more pressure.

Lori started to run through ideas in her mind of what they could do next. She could help him back to the car and take the wheel herself, but would Hershel have any supplies to treat Rick's injury? Maybe she would need to look around the clinic herself to see if she could find anything to bring back with them. But when would the other group get back? They were no more than halfway through the day and they had agreed to return close to sunset. She hadn't the first clue how to patch up these kinds of injuries; if she tried to stitch him she'd just be winging it. What if she caused more damage?

Before her mind could settle on a solution, the sound of a door creaking open from somewhere behind her caused her thoughts to slam to a stop and focus on the new problem; someone or something else was in the room with them. Her wide eyes met her husband's who she could see had slipped back into his high-alert mode, ready to do his best to defend them despite his pain.

They heard footsteps next, though there was no shuffling or dragging that would indicate a Walker, nor was there hesitance that would point to another survivor stumbling across the place. The steps sounded sure and confident, and suddenly a light was flicked on that flooded the entire room with a florescent glow that caused Rick and Lori to flinch and cast their eyes towards the ground for a moment.

Blinking in an attempt to get used to the light, Lori turned so that she was facing the source of the continuing sound of footsteps. She picked up her gun from the floor beside her, noticing for the first time that Rick's was already in his hand. He used his left arm to stretch out in front of her and move her back a bit so she was slightly behind him. She rolled her eyes, of course the injured one wanted to be in the front lines, but she obliged him.

They both raised their guns when a figure appeared at the end of the aisle in front of them. A blonde woman with a white doctor's coat faced them. She held up her hands to signal to them she meant no harm. Lori wasn't convinced, but she suspected this woman may be Rick's best chance to receive treatment for his leg.

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Next chapter will be posted in 7 days. We will take one day off for every review we receive.


	4. Chapter 4

The other woman was the first person to move as she lowered her gun then slid it into the large pocket on her lab-coat next to a stethoscope. Lori watched her wide-eyed, her heart still hammering in her chest. She jumped when Rick's fingers touched her bicep and she turned, alternating her gaze between him and the stranger. He motioned for her to lower her gun and she looked to the weapon in her hand to find it trembling in her white-knuckled grasp.

Lori took a deep breath and nodded, dropping her hand to the floor, the metal of her six-shooter _chinking _against the tile. The other woman seemed to also take a calming breath and she moved stiffly to kneel down beside Rick's injured and outstretched leg.

"Are you a doctor?" Rick asked, his hand moving over Lori's bicep reassuringly.

Lori watched the other woman push her straight blond hair behind her ears and nod, barely glancing up to meet his eyes. Lori caught a flash of intense green before the doctor was looking down at Rick's leg again.

"I can't treat this here," she muttered, pulling a pair of latex gloves out of her jeans pocket. She stretched them over her hands, the latex snapping at her wrists as she moved hastily, glancing up at Rick. "We'll have to get you into my exam room," her confidence seemed to be building as her eyes locked on Lori's. "You'll have to help me get him up."

Lori nodded, already pulling herself to her feet, bracing her weight on the metal shelf next to her.

"I can manage on my own," Rick assured them, his fingers sliding down over her arm as she rose, skating over her skin until he found hers. "You shouldn't be -" he was cut short by a grunt and Lori's eyes snapped frantically to where the doctor was securing a pressure bandage tightly around his calf, inches above his wound where Lori's shirt remained tightly tied. She could see it was already stained with his blood.

"Alright, we should be good now," the blonde woman pushed herself to her feet. "What's your name?" she looked to Lori as she stepped over Rick to his other side, crunching boxes and debris under her feet.

"Lori," she answered, following the other woman's lead by crouching down next to Rick. "This is my husband, Rick," she added, slipping under his arm. She hoped he wouldn't try to stop her again or say anything about her pregnancy – she wasn't sure she wanted to share that information yet with this stranger who was stupid enough to leave open traps where innocent people could step on them. A flash of anger sparked inside her at the thought and she looked around the store nervously, looking for any other visible dangers.

"Regina – call me Reggie," the doctor supplied, nodding for Lori to stand. Rick grunted as they rose, pulling him up with them. He quickly found his footing with his uninjured leg and he immediately eased up on Lori.

"You're alright," Lori assured him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

Rick turned towards the door behind a reception counter that had been closed earlier but now stood ajar. "Through there?" he clarified, indicating the direction with his chin.

"Yes, sir," Reggie answered, already heading in that direction.

It took them a few steps to coordinate their movements and Lori could see that their jarring steps were painful for Rick whose mouth had set into a grim line. Sweat formed along his brow, his face red with exertion and pain. Lori moved quickly to keep up and she shifted her attention between her husband's face and their destination. "Take your time, baby," she whispered, sliding her hand further around his waist to secure him.

They gave a collective sigh when they made it into the exam room and Rick nearly collapsed onto the table. Reggie immediately crossed to a counter where she pulled off her gloves and began sanitizing her hands with a wipe, her back to them. Lori quickly turned to Rick for some kind of indication about what he was thinking. She found him lying prone on the table with his eyes squeezed shut, the veins in his temples protruding drastically as he sucked in deep breaths.

Reaching out she smoothed her fingers over his temple and around his ear until she was cupping the side of his face in her palm. "Shhh," she soothed him, leaning over to press a kiss to his clammy forehead. "You're okay, Rick. I'm right here."

Slowly his eyes opened and she pulled back to search his face. He mouthed something that she didn't catch. Pinching her brow she shook her head.

_Go_.

Lori caught the word the second time and felt her frown deepen at his order. Of course she wasn't going to leave him, and he was crazy if he thought anything different. Shaking her head she caught his stubborn frustration. He always did think he knew what was best.

Bending over again she found his ear with her lips. "I'm not leaving you," she asserted – she could be stubborn too. Something jagged and hard pressed into her other palm and she looked down to find Rick pushing the keys into her hand. She accepted them and slid them into her pocket but didn't budge from her spot beside him.

"I don't have any local to stitch that up," Reggie announced approaching them with a tray. "Someone broke into the clinic when everything started to happen and cleaned me out," she explained, sitting down on a black stool. She wheeled herself over to Rick's side and placed her tray onto a small collapsible table.

Lori eyed the scissors, a clamp and some black thread in a clear plastic wrap. The instruments seemed to be clean enough, so she wasn't concerned about him catching something. The lack of pain-killers on the other hand…

"Do it anyway," Rick pushed himself onto his elbows as Reggie slowly removed the shirt Lori had tied around the wound. He looked down to the crimson-soaked garment and the deep punctures in his skin that continued to bubble up with fresh rivers of blood.

"I intend to," Reggie looked down shyly again. She cleared her throat. "You'll bleed out if I don't."

At the other woman's blunt announcement Lori felt her head swim as she processed the words. Rick could have been killed… he could still die. This _person_ who they didn't even know was going to perform surgery on him without giving him any anesthetic or even Tylenol. She wavered on her feet as the room suddenly swayed before her eyes as she watched Reggie slide closer to Rick's leg.

"Hey," Rick's voice caught her attention and she felt a solid grip on her forearm, steadying her. She turned to him, the world passing in slow motion until she met his concerned eyes. Everything seemed to snap back into focus and she blinked rapidly to clear her vision that still seemed blurry. Rick's hand left her arm to wipe her cheek and she realized that they were wet with tears that were still building in the dams of her eyes.

Lori swallowed her panic and offered him a smile that she hoped was at least a fraction more convincing than it felt. "You just worry about yourself," she whispered, sliding her fingers through his hair.

Rick appeared to be unconvinced as his hand lingered on her cheek.

For good measure Lori chuckled softly and bent down to peck his mouth, though she couldn't for the life of her think of anything at all funny about their predicament. "Hormones," she assured him, resting her cheek against his. She closed her eyes, burying her face into the crook of his neck where it met his shoulder – she didn't care that he smelled faintly like sweat and dirty socks; she breathed him in all the same.

Rick's arms wound their way around her back to hold her to him, half on top of him and she felt him nod, his stubble brushing her hair. She knew that Reggie had begun her work because he immediately stiffened beneath her and his nails dug into her sides, burying into the flesh over her ribs. Lori sunk her teeth into her lower lip to keep from reacting to the sudden pain that he was inadvertently causing her, but she quickly pulled back, straightening up to stand beside him.

She gathered his hands in hers and looked down to find Reggie focused on her work. The other woman offered her an apologetic look and Lori fought the urge to roll her eyes as she felt her anger return. The temptation to lace into the woman was one that she could barely control, but she bit her tongue and turned her attention to her husband who had screwed his eyes shut again. His chest had risen off the bed as he arched his back and she released one of his hands to gently push him back down onto the bed. "Shhhh," she brought his hands to her lips and kissed his knuckles.

Lori watched him, helpless to do anything to actually help him. She wondered if this is how he had felt during her labour with Carl – powerless to do a single thing except watch him suffer. Time seemed to pass painstakingly slowly and it occurred to her that it had been some time since he'd taken a breath.

"Baby," her voice belied her alarm and she patted his cheek. "Rick, you gotta breathe," she looked to Reggie who had lifted her head to watch their interaction.

His body stiffened even more for a split second and then collapsed loosely against the table, his head lolling to the side, facing away from her. Lori immediately felt a rush of adrenaline and panic that morphed into instant relief when his chest shuttered, expanded, and then deflated.

"He passed out," Reggie surmised, ducking her head again. "I wasn't sure he'd last even that long – tough dude."

Lori sputtered at her words. "Are you _insane_?" her tone rose.

The doctor shrugged and continued her work. "I've seen it before… he's fine."

"Fine?" Lori demanded incredulously. "He is not _fine_. He is not fine because you left a bear trap out where someone could step on it an-," Reggie's expression shifted into slight amusement and Lori blinked, trying to understand what she could possibly find entertaining about her husband being injured.

"Planted," the doctor clarified. "To stop them from getting in here… safety measures."

Lori was suddenly too stunned to form words. She looked down at her hand wrapped around Rick's to process the woman's nonchalant and blunt words. "You're a doctor, for god's sake…" she muttered. "What kind of a doctor would do something so stupid and negligent?"

Reggie set her equipment down on the tray and began to clean Rick's leg. "One who is still alive… call it whatever you want but I'm still alive and I'll do whatever it takes to keep it that way. And you're the one who is stupid if you wouldn't."

Suddenly feeling incredibly drained, Lori nodded. "Look, I shouldn't hav-," lifting her head she was struck by a wave of dizziness that made the entire room tilt one way, then the other. "Whoa," she heard herself mutter as she swayed towards the table, her hip connecting with its stainless steal side. A cold draining sensation began at the top of her scalp then washed over her and she reached out for something to hold onto. Finding only dead air she swore softly and squeezed her eyes closed fighting the urge to vomit or faint, or both all at once.

Hands closed around her biceps, interrupting her downward slide to the floor and she found herself being steered and dragged.

"I- sit," she muttered, finding it impossible to form a cohesive sentence. She was pushed down and was vaguely aware that she was sitting on a chair as she slumped back into it. Fingers prodded her throat then slid up under her jaw, searching for her pulse.

"God, you're burning up," Reggie's voice was startled, and then she was tugging at Lori's clothes, pulling up her sleeves, inspecting her arms, yanking at her collar. "Are you bit?"

Lori's brain fought to process the question. She opened her mouth to answer but was cut short when she was violently shaken, her head snapping back then forth like an infants.

"Are. You. Bit?" Reggie demanded. "Scratched…"

Lori shook her head, her thoughts marginally more clear. "No," she frowned, a headache forming in her temples.

"Are you infected?"

Frowning at her words Lori nodded. "We're all infected," she lifted her eyes to find Reggie's startled ones. The woman looked around frantically then moved suddenly, reaching to her side. Lori barely had time to process what was happening before a flash of red crossed her periphery and then something struck her in the side of the head, blinding her – catapulting her into darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

It took a moment for Lori to realize that the thumping sound she was hearing was not coming from the world around her, but rather from inside her own head. Without opening her eyes she lifted her hand to her head to explore her aching skull that seemed to be acting as a vice for her swollen brain – the pressure was unbearable and she wondered if she would pass out again. She groaned when her fingers grazed the spot over her temple, finding the skin split and gooey half dried blood that was tacky on her fingertips.

The sound of rustling across the room forced her to brave opening her eyes and face the too bright light that filtered through a small window, high on the wall. She blinked rapidly to clear her vision and focus on an unfinished ceiling made up of aged wood and then exposed cinderblock walls that had long been discoloured and cracked in some places.

A movement caught her attention and she lifted her head slowly, keeping her hand pressed over her wound that had become slippery under her palm as it began to gush again. She located her husband leaning against the wall under the window, a metal pipe in his hand that he seemed to have been using to pry at the window, which was too small for them to get through anyway; the small panes wouldn't even pass their shoulders, she was sure.

"Jesus, Lori," he limped toward her, using the pipe as a too-short cane.

She watched his movements as she forced herself to sit up, battling nausea and a wave of dizziness. "I think I have a concussion," she muttered, leaning against the wall behind her.

Rick kneeled down next to her and reached out to touch her shoulder. "Yeah, that's a good bet," he winced on her behalf as he pried her fingers away from her head to take a look.

Lori pushed his hands away and checked him over. He appeared to be okay, which surprised her. "Your leg?" she asked, closing her eyes to block out the sunlight that was streaming through the window behind him. She found her stomach with her hand then slid it down low to rest on the barely discernible swell of her belly.

"Sore," Rick admitted, his hand falling to rest on top of hers. "Be better when we figure out how to get out of here."

Lori nodded, smiling in spite of their predicament at the sight of his hand resting protectively over their baby. She hoped everything was alright in there, and then figured she would already know if it wasn't. Lifting her eyes again she looked around the room, swallowing against the pain in her infected throat. Her chest had begun to feel like it was packed with gummy cotton, her breaths filtering through it uncomfortably. "Where is here, exactly?" she asked.

"Best guess is the basement," Rick followed her gaze around the room. "You remember anything?"

Lori shook her head – she didn't remember anything after being smoked in the head with a small fire extinguisher. Except… pulling her hand out from under Rick's, she lifted her shirt and twisted to inspect her side. "I remember being dragged down the stairs," she winced, prodding the bruise on her side and knowing there were probably more along her spine from rebounding against the steps.

She looked across the room to a set of wood and concrete stairs. "You try that door, yet?" she asked, already knowing that it was a long shot that it wouldn't be locked.

Rick stood, wincing a little at the change in position. Lori suspected his leg was more sore than he let on. He turned to look at the stairway she was referring to and shook his head after a moment. "Not yet, was more concerned with making sure you woke up before I go tryin' to open doors," he paused and glanced down at his leg. "And honestly, I wasn't too interested in testing the leg out on a flight of stairs."

Lori nodded. "Of course, sorry, I kinda blanked out on that part."

"Yeah, well, a bump on the head will do that to ya…how exactly did that happen anyway?"

Lori closed her eyes for a moment and willed away the pounding in her head, as if she needed another problem to add onto morning sickness and an infection. The last few days had to be some of her worst, and that was saying a lot considering the way the world had been going for months now. Then again, her husband had been the most responsive to her in those days than he had in the past month. At least there was one thing she could be grateful for. She brought herself back to his question and fought to recall what had happened just before Reggie knocked her out.

"After you passed out, I got a little light headed and felt like I was about to do the same. Reggie came over to help me and she noticed my fever. Asked if I was bitten. She got real freaked out and tried to check me for bites. And then she asked if I was infected. I told her that we all are. Guess she didn't like that answer."

Rick glanced at her head wound again. "I knew that woman was bad news. She took our weapons. Course, that's not surprising considering we're captives now."

Lori instinctually checked her pockets. Just as Rick said, her gun and knife were missing. There was nothing in her pockets at all.

"The keys," she muttered, looking up at her husband with wide eyes.

He nodded. "It was a long shot that she wouldn't search us for everything we could use against her. Should'a run when you had the chance."

"Are we back to that again?" Lori sighed. "I told you I'm not going to leave you, so let's just drop it…"

"You may just have to," Rick cut her off, taking hold of her forearms lightly. "We don't know what this woman intends to do with us. She may have others with her too. We have no weapons. If you get an opportunity to run, you have to take it. I'll do my best to stay with you, but let's be honest, I'm not in anything close to top form right now. We get out of here and it gets tough, you don't hesitate to leave me behind."

Shaking her head despite the throbbing it brought on, Lori opened her mouth to protest but he continued.

"Think about Carl, and the baby."

She couldn't deny he had a point there. She nodded just a little, but they both knew she wasn't entirely on board with this plan. She couldn't imagine just leaving her husband to die. But she also didn't want to leave Carl an orphan and take away the baby's chance at a life. She determined in her mind that none of those things would have to happen. They'd both get out of this safe - _somehow_.

"Carl… I hope he'll be alright when we don't come back by sunset." Lori knew the group would be there for Carl and take good care of him, she figured Carol would be the most helpful to him in their absence, but it hurt to picture his face when he realized his parents were missing. She hoped it wouldn't be too long before they got back to him.

Rick carefully slid down the wall and sat down next to her, taking her hand. "He's gotten a lot tougher; he'll be okay."

Lori leaned over to rest her head on her husband's shoulder. "He's still just a kid though." She couldn't help it; she would always worry about her son. And someday she would be doing the exact same thing with the baby currently growing in her womb. Who was she kidding; she would always worry about her husband too. And at the moment she could see he was hurting. He was leaning his head back against the wall and his eyes were shut, his breathing heavy.

"You sure you're just sore?" She reached up to thread her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, gently massaging his head. It occurred to her that she hadn't gotten a good look at his leg since she had woken up. He had rolled his soiled pant leg back down so all she could see was the blood that had already been there.

"You didn't ask for a number," Rick chuckled a little.

Lori shook her head; she appreciated his attempt to keep the moment light. "Okay, scale of one to ten? Be honest," she added, knowing he might try to make it seem better for her sake.

"Hmm, eight, when I have a chance to think about it. Adrenaline helps to take my mind off…but now we got nothin' to do but sit here."

Lori nodded, moving her hands to reach for his pant leg. The sun filtering through the small window provided barely enough light as she pulled back the material carefully. Reggie had done a good job with the stitches, but Lori could see inflammation topped by ugly bruises discoloring his leg. Given the size of the trap and force that it must have closed with, she wasn't surprised by the damage. Still, it turned her stomach a little and she worried how Rick would heal. There were no comfortable hospitals or beds for him to recover in, and the floor of an old, dark, and cold basement couldn't possibly help the process. She placed the pant leg back just as carefully as she had pulled it up, and looked him over again.

"And how about the rest of you? Something tells me she didn't roll you down here in a wheelchair…"

He hummed in agreement. "Yeah, I'm sure I got the same treatment as you. Can't remember a thing between passing out on the table and waking up on the ground in here," he shrugged. "Feel a little banged up, but nothing too serious. Other than the leg, of course."

Lori's body chose that moment to bring the attention back to her as a coughing fit hit her when she sighed. Just as she figured, it didn't sound pretty. The congestion in her chest was getting to the point of painful and her throat still ached. She wished she had some water.

Rick looked at her sympathetically and stretched his arm around her. She placed her head back on his shoulder. The stairs caught her eye again and she remembered that they still didn't know if the door was locked. They needed to come up with a plan to get out of there and that door was the only option at this point.

Before she could open her mouth to voice her thoughts to Rick, a low but distinct scraping sound filtered through the room. She quickly looked to her husband to find him looking back at her, both of them bewildered and alarmed. She was hoping it was an animal, even a rat would be welcome over the alternative and more likely culprit: Walkers. Assuming it was the latter, she tried to breathe shallowly to avoid another round of coughing. Of course, since her anxiety was up the plan didn't work and she couldn't help but let loose a few hoarse coughs.

Her hope that the noise was just an animal was diminished when as soon as she stopped coughing, it sounded again, louder and sharper than before. It was enough for Lori to identify the sound: a chain being yanked and pulled taut. Something was chained up somewhere down in the room with them and it most definitely was trying to get out. There was no denying at that point what the something was.

Rick began to push himself off the floor to a standing position. Lori quickly sprung into action and used her hands to help him stand. She heard scraping again, closer, and momentarily panicked until she realized it was the pipe that was still in Rick's hand.

He motioned for her to stay where she was but she got to her feet anyway.

"I'm coming with you" she whispered, fighting desperately not to cough once again.

He paused a moment and then nodded, but placed his arm in front of her to indicate that she should remain behind him. They moved slowly toward the other side of the room, where the light from the small window did not reach. Lori hadn't looked too carefully at that side of the room before, but she noticed there was more to it than she'd previously assumed. She could hear the scraping and yanking, more forcefully now, but still slightly muffled. It certainly did not appear to be in the same room as them. The farther they moved across the room the louder the noise got and finally they reached a door.

Rick looked back at her briefly and she nodded, twisting her fingers into the fabric at the small of his back, figuring he was going to attempt to open the door. Even if they had to get past a walker, or several, she silently wished that this door would lead to a way out.

Her hope was immediately dashed when the door opened to reveal what she assumed was a storage closet. It was hard to tell in the dark, but there was no doubt that the room did not lead outside. At the far end of the closet was confirmation of the source of the noise.

A female Walker was chained to a shelf that was bolted to the wall. There was one chain around its ankle and one around the wrist. She looked like she was in her early twenties, long brown hair and a dress, neither of which looked too disheveled so Lori assumed this Walker couldn't have turned that long ago. Perhaps she hadn't even turned before she got chained to this closet.

Upon seeing them, the Walker began grunting and lunging eagerly. Before it could do much more damage to the chain and the wall, Rick moved forward and swiped at its head with the pipe. It threw the Walker off balance just enough for him to pin it to the wall and plunge the pipe into its skull.

Lori moved forward to hold Rick steady as he stumbled back a bit. She had no doubt that the encounter had aggravated his leg. She glanced once more at the now unmoving Walker on the floor and something else caught her eye. A small trap was attached to its other leg. She was about to point that out to Rick when the sound of a door opening stopped her. She turned quickly to see the door at the top of the stairs wide open with light streaming in, outlining Reggie's silhouette.


	6. Chapter 6

"What are you doing?!" Reggie screeched as she rushed down the stairs and over to the closet. Any quick escape plans that had started to form in Lori's mind came to a screeching halt when she noticed the gun in the other woman's trembling hand, her finger on the trigger. Placing an instinctive hand over her belly, Lori stepped away from the doorway until she was shoulder to shoulder with her husband.

Rick lifted the pipe and tightened it in his grip, his knuckles turning white. Lori reached around to rest her hand on his back to steady him, though she was careful not to restrain him in case he needed to move suddenly. He seemed to slip into deputy mode when he cast a nervous glance in her direction that only last for a second before he settled his eyes on Reggie again.

"Reggie, we can talk this through," he extended one hand. "Why don't you put down the gun and let's just talk about this. I know you didn't mean to hurt us… Lori tells me you got a bit freaked out. That's okay – we can both understand that."

His soothing tone started to relax Lori's own tense muscles, but it didn't seem to be doing much at all for Reggie whose eyes were fixed on the feet of the pale female Walker that Rick had put down. "What did you do?" she asked, her voice soupy and confused. Her initial anger seemed to have been replaced with a deep confusion, and if Lori didn't know better she would have thought the woman was in a trance. She looked to Rick but his full attention was still focused on Reggie. "I n-n-needed her. You ruined it… all of it." Reggie shook her head as she spoke, her expression flickering between devastation and puzzlement.

"We're sorry," Lori blurted, moving to take a step towards the other woman. Rick's hand closed around her forearm and he pulled her back again and guided her into the spot behind him. "Maybe I can-," Lori began to explain. If she could show this woman compassion maybe she would let them go.

Rick released his hold on her and motioned for her to stay put. Lori didn't like the idea of him standing between her and the unsteady muzzle of a gun. Her thoughts were cut short by a sudden coughing fit when her breath snagged in her lungs. The sound seemed to jar something inside Reggie who blinked once, her pupils suddenly contracting as she snapped out of her haze. Her face twisted back into anger, her teeth clenching with such force that they looked like they might shatter.

Rick's whole body tensed and he launched himself forward without any other warning, his pipe held across his chest like a shield. Reggie lost her footing as he ploughed into her, driving her back across the room and into the wall. Lori watched with surprised fascination as the gun slipped from Reggie's fingers in what felt like slow motion, then clattered to the floor off into the shadows of the room.

With the pipe thrust under her chin and her body pinned to the wall, Reggie panted heavily, her chest rising and falling so rapidly that Lori thought she might be hyperventilating.

"Check her for the keys," Rick spoke over his shoulder, tightening his grip on the doctor. He turned back to the pinned woman and tightened his hold on her, leaning in close. "Don't move. Don't breathe. If I think for a second that you're going to pull anything I will not hesitate to kill you."

Lori listened to his warning as she approached them cautiously. She kept her eyes fixed on the other woman's unsecured hand as she searched her pockets for their keys. Lori managed to find Rick's knife in the pocket of Reggie's white coat and a capped syringe, which she took just in case the woman had any intentions of injecting the milky liquid into either herself or her husband.

"Where are the keys?" Rick demanded when Lori took a step back.

Reggie set her jaw, silently rebelling against Rick's interrogation.

"We'll find them," Lori placed her hand on Rick's back and rubbed it soothingly. "We'll have to secure her to give ours-," her suggestion ended abruptly when Reggie's foot suddenly connected with Rick's injured shin and he grunted in pain, losing his hold on her. He dropped backwards, his tailbone taking the brunt of his fall against the concrete floor and his face twisted in agony.

In the split-second she had before Reggie's fingers were clamped around her throat, Lori opened the pocket knife. She too landed hard on the ground, fighting for breath around her crushed windpipe. The pain of her infected throat being squeezed was surprisingly mild compared to her panic as one of Reggie's knees dug into her sternum and the other into her stomach. She was so successfully fastened to the floor that the knife in her hand could do her no good.

She tried to demand that the woman get off her, to beg, bargain – do whatever it took to spare her baby's life – but she couldn't do anything except fight the overwhelming urge to pass out from lack of oxygen. The perimeter of her field of vision began to dim and she felt a cough explode inside her chest with nowhere for the pressure to escape. She closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to look into Reggie's enraged ones anymore.

_I'm sorry, baby._

She gasped painfully as something jammed into her chest and her eyes flew open in surprise. Pushing her hands out in self-defense she tried to shove Reggie's hands away, using her nails to claw into her forearms. Hands closed around her wrists like shackles but they were gentle and forgiving and she sucked a shuddering, painful breath into her aching chest. A cough immediately tore up her esophagus, erupting from her chest and she was turned onto her side as hands smoothed her hair back out of her face.

"Just breathe." She knew that voice – Rick. "Lori," he patted her back as he spoke. "You gotta breathe." Squeezing her eyes closed she nodded and lifted her arm to drop it over her face, successfully blocking him out. What did he think she was trying to do?

When her coughing subsided, she sucked in careful breaths and remained curled up as she attempted to recover. "Reggie?" she croaked, wrapping her arms around her belly protectively as she shifted so that she could sit up.

Rick's arms wound around her back to help her and he looked across the room to the closet door. He'd propped a chair up under the handle to secure it. "No lock on that and I don't know how long she'll be out for. You alright to get up?"

Lori nodded, still vague on the details of what had occurred. She figured it would be best to postpone that conversation until they were on the road and as far away from the clinic as possible.

The last of the sun's light had faded and the basement had been inked over by thick shadows, obscuring the parts of the room that were not in her immediate vicinity. Glancing over, she caught Rick watching her, his face etched with concern.

"Can you walk?" she asked, her brow pinching as she remembered how things had spiraled out of control in the first place. "Baby, your leg," she turned her attention to where his pants were still rolled down, concealing his injuries.

Rick nodded. "I can walk," he assured her, getting to his feet by bracing his hand on the wall. Lori didn't miss the way he favoured his one side, or his grimace as he slowly put weight onto his foot. He reached down to help her up and she unsuccessfully skirted his attempts. She gave in and let him pull her to her feet collecting his pipe on the way up. She handed it to him before brushing her hands off on her pants and looking around the room again, pressing her hand to her aching ribs with a wince.

Lori located the stairs, threading her arm through his to settle around his back.

"Think you can manage them?" she asked as they made their way across the room.

Rick grunted and handed her the pipe before reaching for the single railing that was screwed to the wall. It jostled dangerously and Lori noticed that a few of the brackets were broken or missing. "Careful," she muttered, taking the first step, then stopping to wait for Rick who seemed to be considering which foot to lead with.

"You go ahead," he nodded upwards, extracting his arm from hers.

Lori paused to look him over. "Are you crazy?" she demanded, reaching out to take his arm. When he pulled his arm away again she shook her head. "You could fall," she hissed.

"Exactly," Rick reasoned, looking down at his feet and taking a deep breath. When he looked up he settled his eyes on her, unwavering. "And if I do it's not gonna be back onto you." He listed the corner of his mouth into a small smile. "We gonna butt heads every step of the way or can we get out of here."

Lori rolled her eyes, suppressing a smile. When she saw the determined tilt of his head she knew that he wasn't going to relent and she shrugged, handing him the pipe and then beginning to climb the stairs ahead of him. He grunted with each step, the pipe thumping against the wood, the railing rattling on its remaining metal brackets.

Her breath began to whistle and she laughed softly, resting her hand over her chest as she realized that Rick was panting pretty hard too. "Sound like a couple of asthmatics at a marathon," she jested, coughing into the crook of her arm.

When Rick didn't answer she turned to him and reached for his elbow, looking him over. He looked white as a sheet and he looked clammy. "Just a couple more steps," she promised, moving to his side. She slid her arm around his back again. "We'll do it together, sweetheart."

Rick nodded, his teeth sinking into his lower lip.

When they finally reached the top step Lori opened the door cautiously and peeked out into a long hallway and breathed a sigh of relief which triggered another coughing fit. The intensity of her cough combined with her physical exhaustion forced her to bend over and brace her hands on her thighs. Rick's hand landed on her back and he rubbed the length of her spine, lingering to pat between her shoulder blades. "Get it out," he murmured, gathering her hair and twisting it around his hand at the base of her neck.

A banging sound suddenly erupted from the basement and Lori whipped around to find the door being slammed away from its hinges, the chair bouncing dangerously against the handle.

"Shit," Rick helped her to straighten up, pushing her out through the doorway and into the hallway. The sounds of wood clattering against cement made her jump and she stepped back to let Rick close the door behind him and turn the small lock on the handle. "Won't hold long," he started down the hallway, limping heavily. "Look for the keys."

The urgency in his voice set her on edge, picking up the speed of her heart, but she followed his direction and began searching the exam room. "What if she has them on her," Lori suggested, searching frantically through the drawers under the counter. Feet falling heavily and rapidly against the basement stairs made her freeze and she turned to look down the hallway at the door.

"I checked again," Rick took her elbow and started pushing her towards another door, pressing a silver scalpel into her palm. "Go, check the other room but keep quiet," he kept his voice low, sending a nervous glance over his shoulder to the hallway where Reggie was slamming against the basement door.

"Wait," Lori stopped him from turning away from her. "Where are you going?" she asked, keeping her voice hushed to match his.

"I'm going to finish searching here and then I will find you," he pushed her again toward the door. "Lock this behind you."

Lori looked between him and the other room, torn between arguing and complying with him. His hand found her cheek and he pressed a quick kiss to her mouth. "You can do this," he pushed her again. "You need to do this for Carl and the baby. I am not going anywhere."

Nodding, Lori swallowed back tears and the lump forming in her throat. Quickly, she closed the door and snapped the bolt in place before turning to inspect a small apartment style kitchen. She started with the drawers, noting the storm door next to the window. Suddenly the wall beside her shuddered and a loud slam vibrated through the house. She froze and looked back at the hallway where she had come, holding her breath.

Lori listened for what seemed like forever, her entire body tingling with the urge to run. The house had gone silent around her and she waited for something to happen.


	7. Chapter 7

Something hit the back door with enough force to crack the window. Lori startled at the unexpected sound and whipped around to find Reggie yanking on the handle, her hair pasted to the side of her face with blood and sweat. Her features were twisted, her brow scrunched above eyes that had darkened with rage. Lori felt frozen with fear as her hand tightened around the scalpel that Rick had given her.

Her eyes darted around the room and settled on a set of stairs. She wavered, unsure if she should go back to the door through which she had come – maybe Rick would still be there in the kitchen. Glancing in Reggie's direction again, Lori watched in horror as the woman pushed her hand through a hole in the glass, scraping her skin over fractured edges until it shredded. The woman didn't seem to notice the blood pouring down her arm or the deep slices in her skin as she kept her eyes fixed on Lori, her fingers reaching for the lever handle. She almost had it when a loud _clang_ sounded from somewhere in the pharmacy. Reggie's head turned abruptly and she slid her arm back out, abandoning the pursuit and walking away from the door.

Lori felt relieved for the briefest of moments but her dread returned quickly and her mind filled with questions. Did the noise come from Rick? Was he leading Reggie right to him? She made the decision to go investigate, hoping that if she was quiet enough she could sneak up on Reggie and end this nightmare somehow, even if she had to kill the other woman to do so.

Walking as quietly as she could, Lori returned to the door and slowly turned the lock back, willing the door not to creak as she edged it open. She succeeded and stepped back out into the exam room, noticing the mess that Rick had left from his search. Finding nothing else in the room, she continued on through the door that led to the reception area. Lori gripped the scalpel in her hand as she passed through the doorway, wishing she had a better weapon to use in case of an attack.

Almost immediately after that thought she felt a whoosh behind her then something hard and cold pressing against her temple. She mentally cursed herself for forgetting to check behind the door.

"Drop the scalpel," Reggie demanded, her voice sounding as unsteady as her hand felt. Lori could feel the gun trembling against her skull but she just couldn't take the chance of trying to fight the other woman off. Despite the unsteady hand, Lori would have to be precise with her moves or she'd be the loser of the fight. She opened her hand and let the scalpel fall to the floor, hoping that asking for forgiveness and pardon would prove to be a smart choice.

"Okay, okay there you go. I'm sorry we ran, Reggie, but you have to understand we are very confused and just-"

"Of course you're confused," Reggie spat, roughly grabbing Lori's left arm with the hand that wasn't holding a gun to her head. "You're infected. I'm trying to help you. You're only making it more difficult on yourself."

Lori frowned. Did this woman think she was going to turn?

"No, Reggie, I'm-," she began but stopped short when she spotted her husband walking through the opposite door coming from the pharmacy, his hands raised in a placating gesture as he had done with Reggie earlier in the basement. As their eyes met, Lori shook her head in disappointment, wishing he had just made a run for it if he had gotten that far.

Reggie's grip on Lori tightened when she saw Rick. She winced as she felt nails digging into the flesh on her arm, no doubt drawing blood.

"Stop!" the other woman cried when Rick reached the first row of chairs. He complied with her order and raised his hands higher.

"Reggie, I'm not going to try anything. I don't have a weapon, see? We can still try to talk this out, maybe make a compromise?" Lori could feel Reggie moving behind her, probably shaking her head, but thankfully loosening her grip on Lori's arm.

"No, no, no, you're ruining everything. I have to fix it," she said more quietly, her voice filled with confusion and agitation. If it hadn't been clear to them before, it was definitely clear now that this woman seemed to have gone mad. Rick met Lori's eyes once more before continuing.

"I'll help you. Whatever you need. How about you just let my wife go-"

Lori almost protested aloud before Reggie beat her to it. "No, no that won't do. I need her."

"So, can he go?" Lori spoke up, receiving a look from Rick. She raised her chin defiantlyin response - he couldn't be the martyr all the time.

"No!" she raised her voice once more, again gripping Lori's arm hard. "Stop talking. You have to get back in the basement. I want to help you but if you don't stop talking I'll be forced to kill you instead."

"Okay, alright we'll go back," Rick complied. "But maybe you can help us a little now: can we have some water? Food?"

Reggie seemed to think it over for a moment. "Okay. But you have to get back in the basement first. I'll leave it at the top of the stairs and I'll be ready if you try anything else."

"Okay, that's fair," Rick nodded, his deputy mode still in full effect. "Thank you, Reggie."

XXXX

_Back to the basement_, Lori thought miserably as she dutifully took her place against the wall, moving slowly so Reggie didn't lose it again. She and Rick stood there while Reggie gathered some food items for them and brought them back to the top of the stairs as she said she would. The door slammed with a resounding _bang_.

Rick turned to Lori and looked her over, his hand running over her face and shoulder. "You okay?"

She nodded. "Aside from being stuck down here again instead of back with our son, sure. You?" She surveyed him with her eyes, he was still limping heavily, but other than that seemed alright.

"Yeah."

Moments later they heard shuffling and what sounded like furniture being moved. The sound stopped outside of the basement door.

"Barricading us in," Rick muttered. "She may be crazy, but she's sort of smart."

Lori sighed. "I'll get the food."

She trudged up the stairs to retrieve the tray and carefully walked back down, feeling even more lightheaded now that something resembling a meal was in her grasp. Sitting down next to her husband she surveyed their provisions: two glasses of water, a handful of crackers, a container of applesauce and two peanut butter cups. Lori did a double take at that last item; then promptly got nauseated when the smell hit her.

"Oh god," she groaned behind the hand that was covering her nose and mouth. "Those smell disgusting."

Rick gave her a perplexed look and picked one up to sniff it. "Smells like chocolate…and fake peanut butter."

"Exactly!" She pulled up the neck of her shirt to aid in her attempt to block out the smell, thankful for the first time for the high-neck that had been annoying her all day.

Rick grabbed the other piece of chocolate and hurled both across the basement. Lori could hear them _thwack_ against the wall on the other side of the room.

"Better?" he asked, unable to hide the smirk on his face.

"I guess," she muttered in response, uncovering her face.

"Sensitive to smells; I remember that from before," Rick chuckled. "You refused to buy mayonnaise or mustard your entire first trimester with Carl. Had to eat all my sandwiches dry."

Lori couldn't help but laugh a little bit at the memory, even if she still felt nauseated. "I still can't really stand the smell of mayonnaise. Bet I'll never want a peanut butter cup again either after this."

Getting her bearings again, she reached for one of the water cups, raising it to her lips and taking a gulp. She winced when swallowing the water made her throat clench in pain.

"Think it's actually safe to eat?" Lori asked, grabbing one of the crackers to examine.

Rick shrugged. "Couldn't say for sure, but I don't think she's going to poison us."

Despite her persistent nausea and aching throat, Lori nibbled on a cracker and continued to sip her water. At least crackers were good for an upset stomach. She noticed Rick wasn't touching any of his portion.

"Baby, you need to eat too," she encouraged, attempting to hand him a cracker.

"No, I'm good, you take my share." He gently pushed her hand back toward her.

"Please, you've lost blood. At least drink the water," she persisted. "Besides, I don't think I can stand to eat all of this. My throat is killin' me."

Rick looked at her sympathetically but nodded, grabbing his own water and a cracker. They continued to eat slowly in silence

"Did you find anything?" Lori asked, abandoning the crackers that were sticking to her swollen throat. She inspected the apple sauce container before shrugging and raising it to her lips; Reggie hadn't provided a utensil.

Rick shook his head, she could see the frustration on his face. "No, the exam room was a bust and I heard Reggie slamming around before I could check anywhere else. But I did get a look outside, the car isn't there. Keys wouldn't do us any good now unless we can find it."

Lori nodded, her hope wavering, how were they supposed to get out of here now?

"Did you lose the pipe?" she checked, assuming it was gone since he was empty handed when they met up again.

He leaned forward and reached behind his back, presenting the pipe to her after a moment, along with another scalpel wrapped in a small cloth, which he handed to her. "Nope, like I said, she's only sort of smart. Didn't have the presence of mind to search us."

"Well, at least that's something." Lori pocketed the scalpel, careful to keep it wrapped up so that it wouldn't cut her. Sighing, she pushed away the tray of scraps that neither of them had touched for a few minutes. She could still feel the congestion in her chest when she breathed deeply, but thankfully the coughing fits seemed to have subsided for the moment. "So what do we do now?"

"We bide our time until she makes another mistake," Rick replied confidently. "She won't kill us, she said she needs you for something. She's unstable, she'll make another mistake and we just have to be ready for it."

Lori nodded, watching him for a moment before she decided to ask the question that had been on her mind. "Why didn't you escape when you had the chance? You said you checked the front for the car…you could have gotten away."

He shook his head. "Wasn't gonna leave you-"

"But that's what you told me to do," she reminded him. "If the situation were reversed."

"Got a bum leg, remember? What good would it do me to try to run on foot?"

"Still, it would have been a chance. To get back to Carl…" she tried to suppress the tears that formed in her eyes thinking about her boy. At this point he surely knew something was wrong. She wondered who he would sleep with.

"I want to give _you_ a chance," Rick insisted. "I'm gonna get you and the baby out of here." He swiped at her tears with his thumb. "You're exhausted; we should try to get some rest."

She decided not to push the conversation further, suddenly realizing how right he was. Her body ached for rest. Nodding, she scooted over so he could have room to switch positions and maneuver his leg. He unbuttoned his over-shirt and balled it up on the floor, using it as a pillow for his own head and then gently tugged on her arm to encourage her to lay down with him. She recoiled slightly from laying full on the cold cement floor, but was thankful the two of them could at least share body heat.

Lori settled her head on Rick's chest, draping her arm over his stomach. It had been over a month since she and her husband had actually slept next to each other, let alone cuddled up. She felt absolutely awful, her husband had a serious leg injury, a crazy woman was upstairs insisting she wanted to _help _them even as she threatened their lives while keeping them hostage, and a chained-up walker that they had put down was still in the other room just feet away from them. Most of all, she missed her son terribly. Despite all of those things, and even if it had to be on a hard basement floor, Lori basked in the comfort of having her husband by her side again. She fell asleep with a small smile on her face.

* * *

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	8. Chapter 8

The cold from the cement seeped through her clothes and flesh, settling into her bones, freezing her to her core. Lori did her best to curl further into Rick and hold onto the light sleep she had fallen into, but laying down had made her congestion worse and she found herself pulling away to cough into her elbow or forearm. Her husband seemed to be exhausted from the day's events and slept soundly, one arm secured around her waist, the other tossed over his eyes.

When her latest coughing fit subsided Lori laid back down, finding his shoulder to rest her head on as a pillow. She sighed, shifting uncomfortably on the hard floor – the cold certainly wasn't helping her bladder's urgent need to pee every hour.

Lori looked around the small space again… she supposed if it came down to it she could go in the corner behind the stairs. Or in the closet where they'd discovered the chained Walker. As her thoughts turned in that direction, Lori pondered what Reggie could possibly have in store for them. Rick was likely right, if she intended on killing them she would have done so already. And she had made comments about wanting to _help_ them… Lori wasn't sure if that was any better.

She wondered if Carl and the others had made it back to the tire yard to discover that she and Rick hadn't returned yet. Maybe they were on their way now… Lori didn't think they would wait too long after sunset before sending out a search party. She lifted her head to look out the window – it was night now.

Carl would be worried… Rick shifted beside her and she held her breath, not wanting to wake him. The least she could do was let him sleep, even if she could not. He breathed out and traced the length of her spine with his finger tips before going still again, his hand falling to rest in the concave curve of the small of her back. Turning her thoughts back to her son, Lori felt unexpected tears well up in her eyes. She sniffled, burying her face into Rick's chest to stifle her cries. Her poor baby was all alone, and if they died here he would never know what happened to them, or worse, he might think they'd abandoned him. Who would take care of him?

"Should be sleepin'," Rick murmured, patting her back, his eyes still closed.

Lori nodded, keeping her face tucked into his shirt to hide her tears. She wouldn't say that she was an overly apathetic or aloof woman, and she certainly wasn't exceptionally emotional either, but their atrocious day, compounded with her illness, being separated from Carl, and probably hormones, had pushed her to her limit. Long sobs tore through her chest, up her burning throat until she sputtered miserly coughs into her husband's shirt.

She felt him shift and lift his head and she tried to reign in her violent emotions, reaching up to scrub her face with the back of her hand. Unfortunately she'd worked herself up into enough of a state that she desperately needed to throw up the nothing that she had eaten for dinner.

"Lori," Rick's fingers smoothed over her forehead, guiding her head back while pushing her hair out of her face. "What is it? Is it the baby… Lor?"

At the mention of the baby she felt like he'd added another weight to her already burdened shoulders and she dropped her face back down to his shoulder. She knew her tears were unproductive, and frankly, the least helpful thing she could be doing and it angered her that she couldn't seem to shut them off. Turning away from Rick she pushed herself up and got to her feet to pace the length of the wall before heading over to the spot behind the stairs that she'd picked out as the emergency bathroom.

Wrapping her arm around her stomach she slumped down the wall in the corner, sliding her eyes closed. She felt intensely and uncontrollably nauseated and her mouth began to water, filling with saliva the consistency of water. Leaning forward, her knees crashed to the cement and she braced her sweaty palms against her thighs as she wretched, throwing up pure acid and bile.

Cool fingers fumbled with the hair at the back of her neck, pulling it back into a loose pony tail. "Jesus, Lori, take it easy," Rick's other hand wound its way around her to cross her chest, holding her up. "Just breathe," he instructed, rubbing her bicep comfortingly with his thumb. "What do you need?"

"To pee," she hiccuped, laughing softly at how ridiculous she sounded. Sitting back on her heels she sniffed one more time and freed her arms that were pinned under Rick's. Wiping her eyes she looked over at him, finding his expression as confused as she had expected. "Sorry," she muttered, lifting her hand to cover her mouth before she gave him a faceful of vomit breath. "Hormones," she pulled away from him to straighten up, pushing her hair behind her ears.

"You sure that's all it is?" Rick clarified, one eyebrow rising skeptically.

Lori considered his question, worrying the ends of her hair with her fingertips. Of course that wasn't all that was driving her turbulent emotions – her uncertainly was about how much he actually wanted to hear about.

"Sometimes I wonder how the hell I ended up here…" she admitted, watching his expression carefully.

Rick's eyes swept hers and his confused expression deepened. Reaching up he touched her forehead where she'd been nailed by Reggie's fire-extinguisher. "You don't remember?" he asked.

Lori brushed his fingers away and shook her head, torn between wanting to be amused at his obliviousness and frustrated by it. "I don't mean _here_, Rick," using his shoulder she got to her feet and stepped over the mess she'd made on the floor. Shrugging, she worked the button and zipper on her pants, unfastening them as she took a couple of steps away. She wasn't going to be able to hold it much longer so she figured she may as well do away with the rest of her dignity and at least be comfortable.

Rick got to his feet and leaned against the wall, watching her push her pants down, crossing his arms over his chest. Lori wanted to wipe the amused smirk off his face, but she figured it was better than arguing or cold indifference. "So what do you mean?" he finally asked.

Lori crouched down, holding onto the wall for support. "Like somehow I've managed to screw up everything I touch – like I'm a shitty wife… and I won't be winning any mother of the year awards either," she kept her eyes on her feet to make sure she didn't pee on them. Rick didn't say anything in response and she began to feel anxious, her stomach fluttering with nerves. Standing up she cursed that she didn't have anything to wipe with and began to fasten her jeans again, her trembling fingers fumbling with the zipper tag.

Suddenly, Rick's hand landed on her shoulder – she hadn't even realized he'd moved to stand beside her. Frozen, she looked down at his fingers curling over the ball of her shoulder. Unsure of how to interpret the gesture she found herself looking between his face and his hand.

"I don't think you're a bad mother." His voice was thick with emotion and she looked up, surprised to find tears in his eyes.

Lori frowned, lowering her chin. "Well," tears began to return to her own eyes. "Wife's a different story," she swallowed, turning her cheek to rest it on his fingers.

Rick pulled his hand away and the tears in her eyes turned to floods that slipped down her cheeks.

"It's okay," she assured him quickly. "It really is just the hormo-," Lori stopped talking abruptly when Rick's hands slid around her to pull her to his chest. She molded easily into him, her forehead finding the rough stubble on his cheek. When he didn't say anything she found herself floundering in their silence, desperate to fill it. "I've felt like I had two jobs: take care of Carl, and honour you. And I've failed on every level at both those things… I'm so sorry, Rick."

Her husband pressed a soothing kiss to her forehead, moving back to grasp her face in his hands so he could look at her.

"You haven't failed at anything," he let out a deep breath, his eyes still shining from the unshed tears, "and I'm sorry if I made you feel that way. You know I just…am not the best at talking things out."

Lori snorted with amusement and Rick rolled his eyes in response, his lips curling in a smirk. To say he was _not the best _was an understatement. But still, in spite of her frustrations with him being unable to open up completely she had never truly doubted his love for her. The only time she wavered was in the last month but she still had hope they would recover again.

"Anyway, I love you more than anything. You and Carl…and the baby. I love you, even when I'm mad at you, I hope you realize that. Even when I'm bein' a jerk just don't ever forget that okay, honey?"

She smiled, relieved to hear him say those words. Even if deep down she knew, it was still nice to be reassured every once in awhile.

"I love you too, baby," she replied, moving forward to hug him again, feeling a deep satisfaction replace some of her distress from before. At least they finally got to finish that conversation, even if it was not in the most ideal of settings.

Pulling back from his embrace, she wiped the tears off her cheeks. "Maybe we should…" she motioned to the other side of the room, wrinkling her nose at the floor where they were standing.

They curled up on the cement at the other side of the room again, this time sitting against the wall, Lori's head resting on her husband's shoulder. "Feeling better?" he asked, tracing her wedding ring with his fingers that were tangled with hers on his lap.

Lori nodded, closing her eyes, both emotionally and physically drained. "Yeah… I think I should try to sleep for a bit." She could already hear the slow drawn out cadence of her voice and her eyelids had become heavier and heavier until she couldn't open them anymore. She hadn't even realized she'd fallen asleep until she had the strange sensation of falling and she bolted half-awake, her eyes searching the room. It took her sluggish brain a couple of seconds to register that her head had lulled off Rick's shoulder.

Sagging further into him she repositioned her head again and started to drift off, then cursed as she slipped again.

"Honey, why don't you lie down," Rick suggested, already taking hold of her arm to guide her down.

Lori shuffled on the floor and lowered herself until she was resting with her cheek on his thigh, her new position a relief for her sore head. "This okay?" she asked, her voice slurred. Rick's answer was his hand finding hers that were tucked under her chin. She fell asleep to the sound of his soft, reassuring mutterings.

When she woke later it was still dark out and she realized she had flipped onto her back at some point. She hummed at the feeling of Rick's fingertips tracing the bare skin of her belly. Opening her eyes into small slits she inspected his placid expression, wondering what was going through his mind.

"You're showing," his eyes flicked to hers and his mouth twisted into a small smile. "I hadn't noticed before." He returned his attention back to her stomach and opened his hand, stretching it across the skin below her navel, his fingertips settling on her hipbone.

Lori nodded, resting her hand over his. "Not much yet," she was thrilled that he was showing interest in her pregnancy.

"What do you think it is?" Rick wondered, using his unoccupied hand to brush her mussed hair away from her face.

"I have no idea," she replied honestly. She really hadn't bothered to ponder the gender much, finding it difficult to move past the shocked and frightened stage of being pregnant in the new world they found themselves in. She decided to overlook that for at least a moment to enjoy some normalcy, "I guess it would be fun to have a girl, right? One of each…"

Rick chuckled, "Yeah, that's true. But I'm not sure I would have known what to do with a girl before, now raising a girl seems even scarier."

Lori patted his hand that was resting on her stomach. "You'll be fine. Think of it this way, even if it's a girl she doesn't have much hope at being too girly in this world."

She couldn't suppress the shiver that ran through her body, reminding her of their location and the cold cement that most of her body was stretched out on. Rick must have felt it too because he quickly moved her shirt back into place, covering the small bump.

"You're cold," he observed, pulling his balled up shirt from behind his head and moving to hand it to her. "Here, take this."

Lori tried to refuse the offered shirt, shaking her head. "I'm alright," she insisted, smoothing her own shirt over her belly. "You should use it to prop your foot up," she suggested, moving to sit. Rick's hand on her shoulder kept her in place and she looked up to offer him a half-hearted scowl.

"You're sick, Lori," he debated, holding her head in place while he shifted out from underneath her and moved to lay along the length of her side, one of his arms sliding under her head. He made quick work of shaking the shirt out one handed and then tucking it around her, covering her upper body. "Last thing we need is for it to get any worse."

Lori watched his concentrated expression, swallowing heavily. She didn't argue any further, she was too drained to push back anymore. Moving back into him, she snuggled into his chest, pulling her hair over her shoulder and out of his face. "Thank you," she whispered, letting her eyes close. She'd go back to fighting him after a bit more rest.

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	9. Chapter 9

Lori was jolted out of her sleep by a banging sound, causing her to twitch and hit her head against something behind her. She heard a groan and suddenly remembered that she was sleeping against another body - her husbands - and she'd apparently banged his head with her own.

"Sorry," she slurred, still half asleep. She reached behind her to stroke his face, frowning when she realized her head was beginning to throb from the inadvertent collision. Looking around to inspect her surroundings, she soon spotted the reason for the bang, Reggie had set another tray of food down at the top of the stairs and had evidently slammed the door after her.

She sighed, relieved that there didn't seem to be any more immediate danger.

"We're not supposed to be beatin' each other up here," Rick muttered from behind her.

Lori chuckled, turning around to inspect the damage. "Sorry, where did I get ya?"

"Ah, only unhinged my jaw a little bit," he teased.

She leaned forward to press a kiss to the spot he'd gestured to. "If it makes you feel any better I'm probably gonna get a knot on my head."

He smiled sympathetically, placing his hand lightly on her head. "You sleep alright?"

Lori shrugged, taking note of the morning light filtering through the small window. "As much as possible, I guess, under the circumstances." She was reminded of the reason they were awoken. "I'll get the tray."

Using the floor to help pick herself up, she took a moment to shuffle her feet that had lost circulation during her sleep. She really hoped Rick's leg would be able to heal correctly.

Breakfast was more crackers, water, and applesauce. Lori was thankful Reggie had left out the peanut butter cups. She decided to pass on the crackers to try to keep her throat from being further irritated. She opted for the applesauce while her husband took the crackers.

"You think Carl's okay?" she asked after a moment.

"I don't know…but I'm sure he's hopeful we're alive. When the farm fell and we were all separated, he was so insistent that we wait for you. He wasn't gonna leave that highway. He knew we'd find you and he was right."

Lori smiled, her boy hadn't been hardened by this world yet, she hoped he never would. "Yeah…I guess he takes after his daddy that way." Both times their family had been separated they ended up finding each other again. She had to believe they could do it again one more time.

XXXX

They spent the next few hours alternating between sitting, walking around a bit to keep the blood circulating to Rick's leg, and reluctantly utilizing the designated corner behind the stairs. Between that and the decaying Walker corpse, the aroma of the room was fast becoming very unpleasant.

Lori opened her mouth to suggest they try to break the window open, if only for the fresh air, when they heard noise coming from upstairs. She and Rick both turned their heads up, straining their ears to try to get a good idea of what and where the noise was coming from. It started out very faint, she thought for a moment it could have been coming from outside instead. Then it got closer and she was sure of the source; the groans of several walkers and also dragging chains. Her eyes snapped back to Rick who shuffled back to the wall to grab his pipe. Lori reached in her pocket for the scalpel he had given her, she unwrapped it and gripped it tightly. The noise got louder and closer until it was right outside the basement door. Rick motioned for her to come closer to him, standing near the bottom of the stairs.

"This could be our next chance to escape. Be ready to fight," Rick whispered. "And if you get an opening, run."

Lori nodded, not bothering to argue about the logistics even if she knew she couldn't go off on her own unless Rick was dead. She shuddered at the thought. The door opened to reveal Reggie holding several chains attached to Walkers, each one with a trap on its foot connecting to the chains. They moved slower than usual, dragging the metal devices along with their legs. The blonde woman walked several feet ahead of them and looked for all the world like she was taking her pets out for a walk. Lori blinked, utterly confused as to how this woman was so close to Walkers without them attacking her. As if to prove her point, the Walkers began growling and lunging in earnest when they spotted Lori and Rick.

Reggie paused and looked from the Walkers to Lori. "That's odd. I wouldn't think you'd bother them if you are infected."

Lori faltered a moment, weighing the questions on her mind to decide which was the most important one to ask. She was concerned that Reggie kept referring to her as infected, as if she had been bitten or scratched, but she decided against bringing that up for the moment.

"Why aren't they attacking you?" she asked the other woman.

Reggie took a moment before answering, seemingly pondering whether to share the information or not. She held up the severed hand of a Walker, Lori couldn't tell if it was one of the ones behind her or not. "It appears they are not interested in me when I have this," she answered in a detached, professional tone that she might use when explaining a diagnosis to a patient. "The smell of others like them seems to negate their attraction to a human."

"What are you doing with them?" Rick asked.

"Getting them to the closet," Reggie replied, once again treating the situation as if it were perfectly normal.

As she passed them to lead the Walkers to the closet Rick turned his head and nodded. Lori returned the gesture and raised her scalpel; mentally preparing herself for whatever it was she'd have to do to make it out of the basement alive and _not _infected. Her husband inched forward, quietly until he was behind the last Walker. He lifted his good leg and pushed hard with his foot, throwing the Walker off balance and sending it forward into the other two, toppling like dominos. Reggie stumbled, falling onto her knees and losing her grip on the chains and the severed Walker hand which skidded across the floor.

Rick immediately turned around and motioned for Lori to go up the stairs. She started to run, but had only reached the third step when she heard Reggie scream, Rick grunt and the sound of two things colliding. She whipped her head back to see that Reggie had launched herself into her husband and they landed in a heap on the ground.

"Rick!" Lori yelled, running back down to try to help him. Before she could reach the two she skidded to a halt, seeing that one of the Walkers had gotten back up and was headed straight for her.

She jumped back to avoid its flailing arms and raised the scalpel, but the thing was moving too much for her to get a good angle to harm it without doing the same to herself. She ran across the room and picked up the tray from their food delivery that morning. The Walker followed right behind her and she swung around, throwing her body weight behind it. The tray connected solidly against the Walkers forehead, successfully knocking it down to the ground. She ran around behind its head to be clear of its clawed hands, swiftly plunging the scalpel as hard as she could into its forehead. It grunted and gargled for a few seconds before going silent.

Lori ran back in time to see the other Walkers up and headed for Reggie and Rick who were still struggling for dominance. Reggie seemed to have gained the upper hand when Rick used his arms and legs to push her off of him. She landed against the opposite wall with a thud. Rick found his pipe on the floor near his head, using it to strike the Walker closest to him. Lori ran up and struck the other with the tray repeatedly, getting it far back enough to give Rick space to get up.

"Go now!" he commanded, pushing her forward with his hand on her back. "I'm right behind you."

The two made their way up the stairs, not bothering to look back. When they made it to the top Rick only paused for a moment to slam the door shut behind them. "'Keep going, I have no idea if she'll make it back out or not, but if she does we need to be gone."

Lori nodded, dropping the tray and beginning to run again, trying not to cough. They passed through the exam room and reception area pretty quickly but slowed down once they made it back to the main pharmacy area - the last thing they needed was to step into another trap.

When they reached the front doors and stepped outside Lori paused. "What do we do now?! We still don't have the keys."

Rick sighed. "Don't have the car either, remember? Don't know where she put it and no time to search now. We have to keep moving in case she happens to make it out of there."

They continued on foot down the street. Lori thought now would be a good time for the search party to come looking for them. She couldn't remember how long the drive was from town to the tire yard since she had fallen asleep on the way back, so she was clueless how long it would take walking. Most likely several hours for healthy people. The two of them were basically cripples, considering his leg and her weakness and exhaustion from infection and pregnancy. But she refused to give up now, when they finally were free from Reggie.

Lori watched Rick move awkwardly, trying to keep the majority of his weight on his good leg. "How's your leg?"

He shook his head but said nothing, continuing on further and veering to the side of the road near the forested area. She was confused but followed until he stopped just inside the tree line. He turned to face her, wearing that look on his face that Lori had seen many times before. It told her she wasn't going to like the words that were about to come out of his mouth.

"You remember that thing you didn't want to do? I'm gonna have to ask you to do it now."

She narrowed her eyes. "If you're referring to leaving you behind the answer is still no," she pressed on before he could speak again. "We just got away! Why would you ask me to do that now?"

"Lori, my leg feels like it's about to fall off. It can't be much longer before I'm gonna have to start crawlin'. Either way we're not going to get far." Lori began to protest again but he continued. "Our people could be looking for us now. If you meet up with them you can lead them back here. Or you could get lucky and find a car…"

She shook her head, dismissing the idea. "We can take breaks! We'll both sit in the trees here until you're feeling up for more walking and continue on…"

"That's only going to double the time it takes to get back," he took her by the shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. "Look, I'm not expecting to die out here, okay?"

"What about Walkers? You're literally just a sitting target out here," Lori could tell her argument was weakening.

"I've got my trusty pipe," he waved it in his hand.

She smirked but couldn't stop the tears welling up in her eyes. "I don't wanna do this." She wished she could justify that as a good enough reason not to, but he was right. If he kept going with her he would likely do even more damage to his leg. If she could make it back to their group she could bring them back here and get Rick, then Hershel could help him. _Too many ifs_. But that's all they had.

Rick nodded, observing that she had made the decision to go along with his plan. "We should find you a stick or somethin' in case you run into any Walkers on your way, that scalpel isn't going to be enough to fight em off."

It didn't take much searching to find a good sized branch that had falling off one of the trees. Lori selected it but set it back down so she could say goodbye to her husband, pulling him into a hug.

"I hate this," she sniffled.

"I know, you've told me…several times," he teased.

"Stop tryin' to be funny," she pulled back, wiping her tears.

He checked to make sure she knew the way to go before sending her off. "You better get goin', get back to our son and then I'll see you soon." He leaned in to kiss her, cupping her face as she reached up to hold his head, letting his hair slip through her fingers.

They pulled apart after a moment and she stepped away before she changed her mind and decided to argue some more. "I love you," she told him, desperately hoping it wouldn't be the last time.

"I love you," he replied firmly, stepping back towards a large tree.

She watched for a moment as he leaned back on the tree, sliding down so he could sit against it. Turning, she picked up her pace, determined to make it back as fast as she could.


	10. Chapter 10

Lori walked quickly, pulling her shirt tightly around herself in an attempt to keep out the early morning cold. She swept the canopy of trees above her, hoping that the sun would raise the temperature a bit, and then lowered her chin to tuck the numb tip of her nose into her shirt collar. The side of the road had collected enough water that the soil beneath her feet was soft and boggy, slowing her down. She considered walking on the asphalt, but worried that the visibility would get her caught if Reggie was out looking for them.

The thought made her falter in her steps, and she turned back towards where she had left Rick. The image in her minds-eye of him sitting under the tree as she left him behind unsettled her enough to make her tense as déjà vu struck. Jim…

The memory nauseated her and she wavered on the spot, having second thoughts about agreeing to leave her husband behind. She wouldn't be much good to him though… they needed to get back to the group. And Rick was right, she just needed to find them, and then Hershel would fix up Rick's leg and everything would be just fine.

She started to walk again, her boots squishing in the mud. Her lungs felt almost itchy from the mucus congestion and she had to fight to suppress the insistent urge to cough. The last thing she needed was to make noise and draw any Walkers in the area in her direction. The large stick that she held under her arm wouldn't do much damage other than give her a chance to run but she could only do so much in her current condition and Walkers didn't tire.

As she came to a fork that split the road in two directions, she paused, unsure of which direction she should choose. The only sign was a faded stop sign which did nothing to indicate which direction she and Rick had come from. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath and turned left, optimistic that at least something had to go in her favour at some point. There was only so much bad luck that she and Rick could have and they'd already had their fair share.

The sound of an engine caught her ear and she looked around, trying to figure out which direction it was coming from. She back pedaled toward the tree-line again, moving the stick in front of her to grip it with both hands. The roof of the car appeared on the horizon and Lori recognized it immediately as the Suburban, her heart leaping into her throat. She ducked down, her knees sinking into the damp ground and began to crawl into the tree line, hoping that she hadn't been spotted.

When the car screeched to a stop her heart picked up speed and she pushed herself to her feet and started to run towards the forest. She heard the door slam behind her but she didn't look back, instead keeping her eyes on the forest floor ahead of her. Branches crunched behind her under heavy footsteps that seemed to be moving much faster than she could, even with pushing herself.

Lori yelped when the full weight of her pursuer slammed into her, driving her to the ground with enough force to knock the wind out of her lungs. She panted, trying to catch her breath as she fought to push the person off of her.

"Stop fighting me, you bitch," Reggie's voice ground out into her ear, her knee sinking into the small of Lori's back.

Lori grunted in pain, her hands pinned to the forest floor, disabling her. She arched her back as the pain in her spine increased and she squeezed her eyes shut, obeying Reggie's command. She tried not to move other than the harsh rise and fall of her chest as she fought for breath. Her arms were pulled behind her, forcing her face into the dirt. "Okay," she muttered. "Please, just-," a zipping sound bound her hands together and she felt Reggie's hand twist into the fabric at the back of her shirt.

"You're going to get up now, and get back in the car," Reggie ordered, still straddling Lori, her grip pulling her shirt tight enough that it was almost cutting off her airway. "And you are not going to try to run, and you are not going to yell, and you are not going to do anything stupid. Understand?"

Nodding, Lori licked her lips, tasting soil and blood. "Okay," she agreed, nodding quickly.

The other woman got up, pulling Lori with her so quickly that she could barely get her feet under her fast enough to stay standing. Her twisted legs buckled and Reggie repositioned her grasp, shoving her forward, making her stumble her way across the uneven ground to the car. Lori looked around hopefully for Rick, or anyone else to help her, but found only silent, still woods.

"Please," Lori sputtered as they approached the car. "Just let me go."

The tailgate opened with a groan and Reggie lowered it, jutting her chin towards it. "Get in."

Lori breathed, shaking her head slowly as she stared wide-eyed into the back of the Suburban. "Please," she repeated, trying to take a step back. "You can keep the car, you c-," she grunted as she was shoved forward. Unable to use her hands to break her fall she landed with a heavy thud, half in the trunk.

"Crawl," Reggie commanded, wrapping her arms around Lori's shins, lifting her.

Lori used her shoulders to move forward, her chin scraping along the carpet as Reggie pushed her faster than she could move.

When the other woman was apparently satisfied with her position the door was slammed shut, leaving Lori alone in the car, listening to the sound of her own strained breathing. The front door popped open and she listened to Reggie shuffling around until the engine came to life, rumbling the car under her cheek. "Reggie," she called. "I have a son… I need to get back to him. He needs me." Her throat constricted around her words as fear rushed through her. She wasn't sure if sharing more information would hurt or help her at this point.

Reggie didn't respond for quite a while and Lori closed her eyes, trying to calm down and clear her mind. She would need to have it together for Rick, Carl, and her baby. She needed to get back for them.

When they arrived at the clinic Reggie dragged her out of the car and forced her into the building. As they passed the reception desk and she spotted the back door Lori was overcome with a feeling of panic and fear. Tears slid down her cheeks and she felt her body begin to tremble at the thought of ending up in the basement again where she wasn't sure she would ever come out. "Please," she begged, digging her heels into the tiled floor.

"Why won't you just let me help you? I can fix this, Lori – I can make this better and everything will be okay again," she steered Lori towards the examination table. "I can make everything better."

The distraction in the other woman's voice offered Lori her opportunity to escape. She peered around the room, forming her plan in the split second window that she had. She waited until Reggie leaned in to help her onto the table, and used her momentum to take a rapid step backwards, slamming the doctor into the cabinet behind them. Lori didn't spare even a second to look back as she darted for the door that would take her to the kitchen and to the back door where she would be able to get outside and back to the car.

As she rounded the corner into the kitchen she froze as she came face to face with a Walker, and another that was moving into place directly behind it, blocking her way to the door. She could hear Reggie running down the hall and Lori knew she was out of time. Moving on adrenaline and instinct she ran for the stairs, struggling to negotiate them with her hands still secured around her back. She reached the landing and searched the small living room area for somewhere to hide, but was forced to keep moving when Reggie began to climb the stairs after her.

Lori followed a hallway and moved to the last door at the end of it, ducking inside the only open room. A chest of drawers took up the wall directly beside the door and she dashed around to the other side of it, using her full weight to barricade the door. Sweat pooled in the small of her back and she cursed the high neck on the shirt that Hershel had insisted she wear.

Fists pounded against the other side of the door, but it seemed to be secure enough for now. Panting for breath, Lori slid down the dresser to the floor, resting her forehead against her knees. She only took a second before she began twisting awkwardly as she fished the scalpel out of her pocket to saw the band of the zip-tie. She'd hoped that she would be hiding in the woods by the time she got to this part of her plan, but at least she had a moment to collect herself, out of immediate harms way. When the tie came apart, she winced as she stretched her tingling arms.

Her lungs and head protested heavily and she reached up to press her fingers to her temple where her head wound was throbbing steadily. The pounding on the door stopped and she heard footsteps shuffling around in the hallway.

Lifting her head, she listened closely for any signs that the other woman was still in the hall. Hearing nothing, she breathed an uneasy sigh and inspected her surroundings. The room smelled awful, and she examined the furniture pieces one by one: a set of shelves with silver ornaments and wooden blocks stacked on it, a wooden rocking chair with a high back, an antique white crib; a blue blanket folded neatly over its side. The room seemed clean enough, and had been painted a soft green that reminded her of spring.

Bracing her hand on the dresser she pulled herself to her feet and approached the paned window that had been left cracked. It looked out onto a backyard where Lori spotted several bodies wrapped in clear plastic, piled up by a still smoldering brick fireplace. Along one fence were several Walkers tied to the wooden slats by collars around their necks and ties around their wrists. The smell of them had been carried into the room on a breeze that slipped through the opened window, so Lori pulled it down, sealing off the room.

Taking a deep breath she looked around the room again and frowned when she realized that the smell was still there, if not stronger.

Resting her hand on her stomach she tried to breathe through her mouth, but her throat was already parched and raw from the infection. She walked the length of one wall before a movement in her periphery drew her attention back to the crib. The blanket flipped again and Lori frowned, approaching the crib – she hadn't realized there was a baby inside.

Peering over the edge she found a tiny boy dressed in a blue sleeper, knitted mittens and booties pulled over his hands and feet respectively. Lori frowned when she found that he had pulled the blanket over his face and was struggling beneath it. "Aw," she muttered, reaching over the side of the crib to uncover him. "Did y-." she pulled the blanket back and gasped, stumbling back in shock, trying to shake the image of a sunken emaciated face and milky blood-shot eyes.

She could hear the baby grunting and growling, its strained breaths like a coffee percolator, gurgling deeply. Slowly, she approached the crib again, fighting the urge to cry, or be sick – or both. She peered over the bars, one trembling hand moving to rest over the blanket, her eyes welling with tears. The baby appeared to be less than a year old – maybe six months – and she could see that it had once had thick brown hair that had fallen out onto its pillow.

Dried blood stained its mouth and gums as it snapped at her, twisting its head at an impossible angle. Lori swiped at the tears on her cheeks and turned away from the crib, her knees trembling so badly that she wasn't sure if they would hold her up. Crossing the room she sank into the rocking chair in the corner and buried her face in her hands, careful not to stab herself with the scalpel.

She listened to the sound of the baby, grunting helplessly in its crib.


End file.
